


a little monster fish thing under the Busan sea

by ninetwothrees



Category: B1A4
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Romance, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 15:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12460788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninetwothrees/pseuds/ninetwothrees
Summary: Junghwan's voice isn't what it used to be, Sunwoo is beingsuperweird, and the two issues might or might not be connected. Also: a fight, an intervention, and 20 questions.





	a little monster fish thing under the Busan sea

**Author's Note:**

> SO i actually wrote this fic almost three years ago (hence why everyone's living in the dorm etc), just never posted it, and i'm not completely sure how i feel about it ;~; but here we go for the sake of more fics in the b1a4 tag?
> 
> fair warnings: i wrote it after watching _reply 1994_ and there are quite a lot of references to both it and baro's _boys over flowers_ (and its cast), which i highly recommend to watch! :') if you haven't, some of it might be a bit confusing (which is part of why i was reluctant to post this fic back then, it's kind of self-indulgent in this aspect), BUT i think it's readable ~enough~ in any case, lol.
> 
> also, sandeul might be a biiiit too clueless about lgbt/sexuality matters, but /throws hands up, i just want to post this before i change my mind. ^^;

Junghwan loves karaoke so he is thrilled when Sunwoo gets tired of Junghwan singing away his boredom in dorm one night and suggests he might as well have Sunwoo and their karaoke machine join him. There’s nothing not to love and he loves fully; no amount of “chill, this isn’t the stage”s he gets from his school friends on those occasions they, in their words, “make the mistake” to take him out for karaoke can change that. He sings as surely as he breathes and he wouldn’t even know how to “chill” about it just as he would eventually run out of oxygen if he tried holding back on breathing. There’s nothing not to love and there’s no question about it, until-

The score on the monitor settles on a “89” and Junghwan blinks a few times as if it’s his vision fooling him and he didn’t actually get those treacherous double digits as his evaluation. He half registers Sunwoo teasing him about the score and he laughs and hopes Sunwoo is distracted enough not to see past how forced it is. Because it’s all fun, right? Chill. It would be crazy to get upset over a karaoke score. It’s fine. Until...

Sunwoo reaches the end of his silly song choice and the numbers flicker for a few seconds before stopping on a “93.” “I’m better than Junghwan, I’m better than Junghwan,” Sunwoo chants ad nauseam, and later that night Junghwan will wonder if the night would have gone any differently if he had let Sunwoo ride on his euphoria and had not said the innocent one-worded attempt at acting like It’s Fine.

“Congrats.”

“Yeah,” Sungwoo says. “I’m gonna make ramyun, should I make it double?”

“Cool,” Junghwan nods, and maybe if he had kept quiet, Sunwoo’s face wouldn’t have undergone the subtle transformation Junghwan fails to notice now and Sunwoo wouldn’t have had taken the time to make ramyun to process what was said, or rather left unsaid, and they wouldn’t have had to have the ramyun conversation.

“Yum,” Junghwan says when Sunwoo sets the pot in front of him, his mind only partially stuck on the previous events. (Sure, later he might secretly need to try to sing the song over to see his score and sing Sunwoo’s song for good measure as well, but right now there’s dinner and he seems to have passed as a normal person who doesn’t overreact over karaoke.)

“I hope so,” Sunwoo says. He leaves the lid to Junghwan and runs off to get one for himself.

“Yum,” Junghwan confirms with a mouthful of noodles and only then does Sunwoo bring his chopsticks near the meal. Junghwan thinks to jokingly ask whether he was waiting to see if it was poisoned, but maybe he is still feeling a bit too emotionally sore for anything but a casual and entirely neutral exchange between bites.

“So,” Sunwoo starts, and Junghwan likes the casual, neutral tone of that, “do you think I can sing?”

Oh no. “Obviously, go you, 93.”

Sunwoo looks confused for a moment, like it’s not normal to remember your karaoke score 15 minutes after the fact, let alone someone else’s. “No, I’m being serious.”

That’s what Junghwan was afraid of. A fun Sunwoo and a serious Sunwoo are both forces to be reckoned with and usually that’s what Junghwan loves about him, only now he doesn’t feel up to dealing with either of them.

“Me too. Yes, you can sing. What kind of question is that?”

“Yeah, but do you think I can sing well?” Without realizing, Junhwan and Sunwoo simultaneously put down their utensils. “Like, do you know that scene I did where Binggeure goes to that singing contest?”

“Of course, I watch all your shows,” Junghwan says with a hint of pride, a hint of defensiveness, and a memory from a few weeks ago flashes through his mind and leaves an ugly trace behind.

“Well, they didn’t even show it. I just walked through the door and back.”

Junghwan starts picking up at the dirt between his toes and doesn’t care to look up. “You weren’t even a main character.”

Sunwoo pauses. “But if, say, Jinyoung hyung played Binggeure, they would’ve given him the scene. Wouldn’t they?”

“What do you want me to say?” Junghwan says, frustration creeping into his voice. “You’ve clearly made up your mind anyway.”

Sunwoo stares at him for a few slow moments to the point when Junghwan knows he’s about to get up so he does it first.

In the safety of his room he puts his earphones on and gets ready to belt out along with the song but pauses with his mouth hanging open. He pictures Sunwoo on the other side of the wall, wallowing in whatever issues he is having about singing, and in such moment having to hear Junghwan do what he admittedly does best.

He yanks the earphones off and buries his head in the pillow. He hates this. Sunwoo isn’t being reasonable and now Junghwan is holding himself back for his ridiculous sake. Even though, the memory returns with a reminder, Sunwoo isn’t going to appreciate any effort Junghwan puts into being a good friend to him.

Still, the image of Sunwoo wallowing in any way or form keeps haunting him, even as he tries to close his eyes and find comfort in sleep, even as he switches his phone off so he’s not tempted to break his resolution to function without Sunwoo for the rest of the day if not longer, indignation sweeping over him next to wistful regret. If Sunwoo wants to sulk for no reason whatsoever, it’s his choice. It serves him right, even.

If only it were that simple.

He realizes he had drifted off after all when the lights flick on and Jinyoung appears, humming an unknown melody.

“Oh. Sorry,” Jinyoung says at the sight of Junghwan blinking into the brightness.

“Whatever.” It’s not one of those welcome moments where sleep had washed away previous emotions. Whether he had slept for ten minutes or three hours, both Sunwoo and Junghwan’s karaoke failure, possibly the other way around, pop right back into his mind like they have never left at all.

“ _O_ kay,” Jinyoung says, probably thinking of retreating back into the living room, but Junghwan knows he must be tired so he grumbles in what he hopes translates as an apology, and Jinyoung hovers on the spot.

“How was it?” Junghwan asks to add conviction to his intended nice and not-at-all-grumpy roommate persona.

“Eh,” Jinyoung shrugs. “Still don’t get why they invited the three of us, everyone knows you and Sunwoo are our secret variety weapons.”

Junghwan stares at him blankly, any efforts at appearing emotionally sound falling apart. “How is it secret if everyone knows?”

Jinyoung gapes back for a few seconds, before, “I’m going to take a shower now?”

He switches the lights off, leaving Junghwan back to black.

  
  


  
  


“Channie Chan Chan Chan.” Junghwan barges into Dongwoo and Chanshik’s room the next morning (after noting with silly relief that Sunwoo’s door is wide open; he must have gone to the gym). Chanshik looks up at him from his tablet while Dongwoo’s shape under the blankets doesn’t move a centimeter. “Feel like hitting the practice room?”

Junghwan prefers practicing alone but he gets the impression Chanshik appreciates some guidance and companionship.

“Morning,” Chanshik mumbles, and Junghwan might have overestimated how awake he is. Still.

“Come on.” He grabs the blanket in an attempt to pull it off him and hurry the preparations to head to the practice room where he has decided they _are_ going. The tablet, which was, he notices in retrospective, sitting loosely on it, plops on the floor. “Fu- I’m so sorry!”

“It looks fine,” Chanshik says but he promptly gets up and picks up the tablet to tuck it under his pillow like it’s his baby he needs to protect from the big bad Junghwan. His tone, however, remains as friendly as ever and Junghwan is suddenly grateful he isn’t dealing with any of the more petulant members. “It’ll make a good story.”

“Yeah,” Junghwan says miserably, because there’s only enough times you can break or nearly break things and just laugh it off.

“Give me ten.” Chanshik lightly touches his shoulder on his way to the closet.

Very, very grateful.

  
  


  
  


Not that there were any hard feelings to begin with but all is definitely forgotten by the time they’re stuffed with McDonald’s pancakes and ready to busy their vocal chords.

Chanshik is studying sheet music of their usual repertoire and Junghwan is looking up different lyrics online, and it’s only five minutes after he promised himself not to mention Sunwoo, directly or indirectly, that he blurts out, “You’re not gonna get randomly insecure about your singing, are you?”

“No,” Chanshik says simply. “Are you?”

“No,” Junghwan echoes, and it comes out annoyingly self-defensive. His fingers slip on the keyboard where he was searching his last night’s karaoke choice and type a ㅁ instead of a ㄴ. Chanshik doesn’t pry with anything but his eyes and even those retreat when Junghwan doesn’t elaborate.

Junghwan does well enough, he supposes. Well enough doesn’t cut it but he chooses not to dwell on that, reminding himself it must be one of those days. They finish off with their album duet and he grins at Chanshik and encourages him with a thumbs up numerous times. Jinyoung should really be giving him more chances at solos.

  
  


  
  


Junghwan can’t avoid Sunwoo forever and neither does he want to. The whole matter is absolutely ridiculous anyway and he doesn’t understand how it’s dragged on for as long as it has. He and Sunwoo don’t fight and not talk and all that other nonsense.

Unfortunately, Sunwoo doesn’t seem to have got the memo and doesn’t welcome Junghwan with open arms. In fact, he doesn’t leave his room at all, the door now shut tight. Junghwan waits for a couple of hours and when there’s still no Sunwoo in sight he lets himself in.

“Reading, huh?” he comments and Sunwoo gives him a similar look to the one Junghwan aimed at Jinyoung and his secret weapon talk last night. “Can’t see any bottles with pee or stashes of food, which means you probably shouldn’t stay here for much longer.”

“Whatever,” is all Sunwoo says and he keeps staring expectantly but Junghwan isn’t leaving just yet and he’s quite tired of Sunwoo just opposing whatever he has to say so he only returns the body language. Sunwoo gives up first. “I’ve just been thinking.”

“Thinking’s good.” Not really. Not when Sunwoo thinks so much he overthinks and it’s up to everyone else to clean up the mess. “About?”

“I know I don’t sing badly. But that’s the case for every other random person.”

‘ _Eh_ ,’ Junghwan wants to say but he holds it in because Sunwoo is finally speaking, his eyes meeting Junghwan’s in one moment and avoiding them in the next, like he is his serious self spiked with self-consciousness Junghwan would never expected him to feel with him.

“And I know I can’t sing as well as you or the hyungs, and that’s fine, I’m the rapper,” Sunwoo continues. “But how can I even call myself a singer if I can’t sing well enough?”

“Our CEO thought you can, our fans think you can, I think you can…” He manages to voice the end of the sentence as he intended even as his eyes fall on the book-shaped object Sunwoo was occupied with, which distracts his thoughts in an instant. He wasn’t reading. He was drawing, and Junghwan recognizes the notebook.

“I wouldn’t be the first untalented idol to debut.”

But Junghwan isn’t listening anymore. “Bought that in Laos, huh? Must have been nice there.”

Sunwoo glances where he’s pointing, and licks his lips impatiently. “Don’t try to distract me, Junghwan.”

“I’m not,” Junghwan says sharply. “Not everything is about you, you know.”

Sunwoo’s expression goes from stubborn to completely lost. “Huh?”

And just then, Junghwan can’t pretend anymore. “I don’t know why I’m supposed to be your sounding board. Why don’t you talk about it with Yeonseok hyung and Hojun hyung?”

There it is, the wound is open and painful and vulnerable and Junghwan can’t stand staying in its wake so he does the only thing he can think of: leaves the room and retreats to his bed, praying that this time sleep provides the healing effect it’s supposed to.

  
  


  
  


Free days don’t last forever, and Junghwan comes to the conclusion that’s a good thing if freedom means the emotional outbursts they’ve been experiencing. He trusts Sunwoo to respect the unspoken pact of avoiding each other but to his surprise Sunwoo claims the seat next to him in the van and Junghwan is literally cornered.

Jinyoung sits to Sunwoo’s right, Chanshik and Dongwoo end up on the front seats, and all three are soon lulled to sleep by the moving car. Junghwan awaits whatever is to come, and sure enough, ten minutes in Sunwoo leans closer so Junghwan can hear his whisper better. It is their first real conversation since yesterday and Junghwan automatically follows Sunwoo’s movement and positions his ear for Sunwoo’s convenience.

“What was that about?”

The words bring Junghwan back to his senses and his knees shoot away from Sunwoo and toward the door. “What do you mean?”

Sunwoo sighs, which is so dramatic of him.

“You know what. Acting all prissy about Laos. I thought you’d be happy I was on the show. Or do you think I suck at variety too?” he says bitingly. Junghwan wants to strangle him.

“I never said-” he starts a volume too loudly. He counts to five in his head and tries again. “I never even said you sucked at _anything_. You keep making this up or imagining it or whatever, and I don’t know what _that’s_ about. This isn’t even you, you’re not acting like you.”

Sunwoo keeps a poker face. “Maybe you just don’t know everything about me.”

Junghwan wishes he had the poker face skill. Instead, his brow furrows and his mouth hangs open with nothing coming out, and before he can manage any words at all, Sunwoo lets his head fall against the headrest, tilted to Jinyoung’s side, of course, and closes his eyes, though his crossed arms give off decidedly hostile vibes. Junghwan sticks out his tongue at him for a second, because no one can see and it’s a more socially acceptable alternative to throwing things or carrying out his plan of strangling him.

So that was another interaction to add to the list of disasters. Junghwan wonders if this is it, if their birds of a feather bond ends like that. Maybe it became too good to last forever, or maybe Sunwoo is right and he doesn’t know him as much as he thought he did. He realizes Sunwoo didn’t press about the topic of Laos, almost as if he didn’t care and only wanted to rile him up. Junghwan didn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t, but it makes him mad now, Sunwoo’s apathy to trying harder.

Amidst these thoughts, the exhaustion from having woken up at five dawns on him and he doesn’t fight it, the studio where they’re headed being far away still.

He wakes up at one point to find that Sunwoo’s hand has accidentally ended up on his thigh. He’s lost on what he’s supposed to do about it or how he’s supposed to feel, so he drifts off again, leaving it for the bumpy car or Sunwoo to deal with.

  
  


  
  


Sunwoo is awfully cheerful, not only during the recording but off-camera too, always pestering Jinyoung or laughing about something with Dongwoo or play-fighting with Chanshik. Junghwan takes note of it all, and he officially doesn’t understand Cha Sunwoo. He’s starting to come to terms with it too, he thinks.

When it’s time to perform, he subtly searches Sunwoo’s face for any signs of his recent worries about his singing, finding none, and when they begin, he zones out everything but Sunwoo’s voice, but there is nothing nonstandard or shaky or insecure about it. They’re halfway through the song and it hits Junghwan he hasn’t been paying attention, which is unthinkable and he doesn’t punch himself right there and then only out of professionalism.

“How did I sound?” he asks Jinyoung afterward, looking for a leader’s honesty as he attempts to recall his performance and comes up empty.

“Good?” Jinyoung says. Junghwan can tell he picked up on the anxiety behind his question, and the assessment doesn’t exactly silence it. “You’re all right?”

Everything is a fucking question these days. His first instinct is to take out his inner turmoil on Jinyoung once more, but he doesn’t want to be that person so he just musters a smile, genuine if not in emotion then in knowledge that while Junghwan despises everything and everyone right now, Jinyoung is just looking out for him. “Sure.”

It doesn’t make sense, he thinks as they ride to their next schedule. He doesn’t need to be happy and energized to sing his heart out. Any emotion can be a driving tool for his singing, and in return his singing fills him with the emotions he is lacking.

Usually, that is.

  
  


  
  


  
  


“Oh.” Junghwan is writing down notes for the university, Dongwoo asleep on the sofa with his feet on Junghwan’s lap. Junghwan thinks he’s lucky they’re not Sunwoo’s smelly ones, and that thought is way too fond for where he and Sunwoo are, or aren’t, at the moment so he mentally pops that balloon (Jinyoung once made them do relaxation exercises he found online, and one of the methods for freeing their minds of thoughts was to imagine them as balloons and pop them; he doesn’t know if it’s applicable to everyday life or if he should believe Jinyoung’s internet expertise in the first place, but he gives it a try anyway) and goes back to using Dongwoo’s firm calves as a surface. Chanshik berated him earlier for not using a real desk but Junghwan asked him to please tone down his mature maknae role and carried on what he was doing.

Chanshik glances up from his tablet. “Oh?”

“Oh,” Junghwan confirms. His phone’s battery has been dying all day and with the last pixels flickering on the screen, something in Junghwan’s brain clicks and he knows where he left his charger. An _uh-oh_ would have been more accurate. “I left my phone charger in Sunwoo’s room, can you fetch it for me?” Chanshik looks at him like he’s crazy. Maybe he is, a little. “I’m studying,” Junghwan argues to appear less so.

Chanshik shrugs. “I’m browsing.”

Junghwan pulls one sock off of Dongwoo’s foot, throws it, barely misses an unimpressed Chanshik and, getting up, gently lays down Dongwoo’s legs to make up for the sock theft. Chanshik has the nerve to throw him a dirty look when Dongwoo tosses a bit.

Junghwan wants to press the Power button on Chanshik’s tablet but thinks better of it when he remembers the previous incident with Chanshik’s electronics so he just ruffles his hair and Chanshik laughs, and it’s not much of a reprimand but it wasn’t supposed to be. He feels fairly good today, and Chanshik and Dongwoo’s presence is nice, unlike certain people’s. Too bad he now has to enter certain people’s territory.

“What kind of maknae, really,” he grumbles loudly enough for Chanshik to hear, eliciting a more a more satisfied laughter, and braces himself for the _nice_ to end. He used to be an optimist but a lot of things used to be.

He knocks, once, twice, before going in.

He doesn’t know why he’s taken aback when he sees Sunwoo on the bed, right where he knew he would be. Maybe it’s the guitar he’s holding. When Jinyoung plays the guitar Junghwan finds it almost sexy, strangely enough (though he figures it’s a normal musician thing, to feel passionate about people who are musically skilled), but the sight of Sunwoo with one just makes him irritated.

“Missed me?” Sunwoo says, and for one embarrassing moment Junghwan doesn’t register the passive aggressive tone and wants to answer yes. Only for a moment. He hurries to close the door to continue doing his best in keeping the members out of the loop about this crack in the system, and faces Sunwoo with a cold expression.

“I forgot my charger here.”

Sunwoo points to the bedside table with two chargers neatly rolled up next to each other. Junghwan won’t have to deal with the unpredictable process of untangling the cord. “Thanks,” he says absurdly.

He notes then how Sunwoo’s neutral face doesn’t look all that neutral, that his eyes have a rather sad shape when he’s not smiling or making dumb faces. (He’s observed his own eyes before and concluded their neutral state is tired. He isn’t sure if they’ve always been like that or if it’s a result of him being, well, tired.)

“I’m gonna go now,” he says even more absurdly. Sunwoo drags his fingers down the strings and it makes a faint random sound.

He’s almost out the door when, “Hey.”

He turns around immediately. Maybe the change, letting his guard down in this tense, self-conscious way, has spread onto Sunwoo as well. “Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?” A sparkle of hope lips up inside of Junghwan, and he still doesn’t understand how this new Sunwoo operates and that’s scary (a fear he didn’t know existed), but he decides to go with it.

“Of course.”

Sunwoo is sitting while he is standing so he should have the upper hand, except Sunwoo is hugging his guitar like it’s a shield and Junghwan doesn’t have anything to hide behind.

“I was thinking,” Sunwoo says and Junghwan averts his eyes from his sad stare. “Are you, like, jealous or something?”

“What?” Junghwan has brief, misted flashbacks to that time his jerk of a classmate asked him if he liked the girl he did in fact like, or that time his mom found a condom in his drawer, or that time they all came in late in their trainee days and their CEO saw them, and all these times Junghwan had the same guilt-ridden voice as he bid time even though he had already been caught.

“You sounded like you have a problem with the hyungs,” Sunwoo says, still tame yet defensive, and Junghwan also hears a hint of curiosity when Sunwoo adds, “or something.”

Yeah, the hyungs. The hyungs who are Sunwoo’s confidants after he apparently had to keep his worries to himself for so long. The hyungs Sunwoo gets lovey-dovey with in KakaoTalk. The hyungs Sunwoo wants to travel with while Junghwan has held on to that promise to travel together _he_ and Sunwoo made all those years ago. Those. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t want to talk about it. Sunwoo doesn’t want to talk, he thinks bitterly, because that’s the kind of friends they are. Apparently. But, his heart picks up, they are talking about it and it seems Sunwoo doesn’t live to fight with him and attack every word he says. The sparkle of hope hasn’t died yet.

For the first time they both really look at each other.

Junghwan’s mom always told him he had no sense. That day of the condom accident, actually, she told him he couldn’t get distracted if he wanted to be a singer, that they were already risking with his future as it was, that she had agreed to support him but only if he was taking his dream seriously. Jinyoung tells him to use his head more too, less firmly than his mother and as one idealist with leader instincts to another without them, but still. He is a baby to his fans, the boy with no poker face, and altogether the list of people considering him clueless is longer that one could count. Junghwan doesn’t disagree (though he is less of a fool than the world has him to be, he thinks), even plays up that image, but the truth is, he hasn’t needed sense to get by and in times when it’s needed he’s relied on his inner guidance, his gut feeling on autopilot, to help him read the world.

In that moment the sight of Sunwoo’s face fills his gut with the now familiar yet inexplicable fear. He wants to shake it off, listen to the sizzling sparkle from just a few seconds ago, but it’s as if Sunwoo is intently trying to convey a message that Junghwan can’t for the love of god decipher, and the clock is running out.

“Aha.” Sunwoo breaks the silence so abruptly Junghwan flinches a little. Even those two syllables are smug, mocking, and ridiculous. “Junghwan is _jealous_. That’s, well.”

Sunwoo is an idiot. “I just didn’t know being in B1A4 is so depressing to you,” Junghwan snaps and leaves at once, only barely stopping himself from slamming the door. He doesn’t want the members to intervene now more than ever because maybe he is the biggest fool to live after all.

Chanshik still looks like he knows, something, at least, when Junghwan heads to his room that he knows he’ll have to himself for the evening, but if Chanshik knows, he never tells.

(“I think you’re giving me too much power, hyung,” Chanshik said once.

“No, you can’t convince me you can’t read people’s minds. Of course you would try,” Junghwan joked, while omitting the very real reality of how when he’s feeling too self-conscious as it is, being around both Chanshik or Dongwoo can make him feel further like he’s under a microscope, because as much as they keep to themselves, they have this sneaky ability to read others, however that works.)

He turns to music, his ultimate comfort, but it suddenly doesn’t feel very comforting at all.

He looks at his deflated image in the mirror above the drawer and scoffs. “What am I doing?”

The other Lee Junghwan remains deflated and unhelpful.

  
  


  
  


Junghwan drags Dongwoo on the seat next to him, a preemptive measure against the unpredictable Sunwoo, though that’s the extent of how much he plans to waste his time thinking about him. Dongwoo is the best napping buddy anyway, not as bony as Chanshik and an equally good cuddler. Junghwan closes his eyes and pretends he’s resting on his girlfriend or maybe his mother, someone intimate and familiar and comforting who makes him feel music, and in this case rather manly shaped but no fantasy can be perfect.

(Sunwoo fiddles with his phone the whole drive and laughs quietly a couple times.)

The recording sucks. Junghwan still sucks. It might be the panic mode he’s been in recently but at one point he has to take deep breathes as the possibility of his dream shattering ghosts over him.

  
  


  
  


Dongwoo pops into the room. “Hey, Junghwannie, can you come help me with something?”

“Okay,” Junghwan complies without thinking but assuming Dongwoo wants to engage him in the kitchen or deal with one of the random situations that sometimes come up in a household occupied by five random boys.

He stops in his tracks when he reaches the living room and the eerie setting in front of him. Everyone is there, bar their manager. “Manager hyung couldn’t make it?” he immediately cashes in that thought in defensive sarcasm.

Sunwoo is the only one occupying the sofa while Dongwoo the traitor, Jinyoung, and Chanshik sit opposite on the floor.

“What is this?” No one replies even then. All eyes are on him but the pair he seeks out belongs to Sunwoo. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s clearly expected to join him on the sofa and there’s an air of forced alliance between them. Sunwoo shrugs and Junghwan feels conflicted. The enemy of your enemy is your friend but he has no idea what’s the protocol if the enemy of your enemy is your other enemy.

He sits down in appropriate distance from Sunwoo and glares down at the trio and their solemn appearances.

Dongwoo clears his throat. “Chan and I were thinking…”

“And Jinyoung,” Jinyoung says.

“Of course!” Dongwoo says.

“No worries.” Jinyoung smiles at him. “Please continue.”

“We were _all_ thinking…”

It feels like a joke. Junghwan is sure they were _all_ indeed thinking, but he also has a good idea where this whole ordeal started. He can just imagine Dongwoo and Chanshik whispering about them in their bunk beds at night before they brought it up to Jinyoung, and they all must have been reluctant to get involved but decided to anyway, and here they are. A joke.

“We were thinking this thing between you two is getting out of hand. And spare us the _what thing_ part.” Dongwoo’s hand moves to push up his nonexistent glasses and he scratches his nose instead, visibly uncomfortable yet stern.

“Fine,” Sunwoo says.

Junghwan raises his eyebrows, feeling irritation build up inside. He is a nice person, likes being a nice person, but the older he gets the less patience he has for the ugly parts of life. “Right, there is a thing, and it’s Sunwoo being an asshole.”

Sunwoo doesn’t react, Jinyoung does. “Hey, hey, hey. Aren’t we too old for pointing fingers? We’re a team and we’re all worth it.”

Junghwan gets a mental image of Jinyoung in one of those commercials for female hygiene, looking into the camera and going, “You too are worth it.” He cackles and Sunwoo does the same next to him. Junghwan wonders if their thoughts match and he can’t ask but they simultaneously exchange a look with a glint in their eyes.

Chanshik scrunches his nose in his split of a second way. “Are they amicable now?”

“Doubt it,” Jinyoung says.

“We’ll see,” adds Dongwoo.

Junghwan lets out unamused resemblance of laughter. “You know, whatever this is, it’s really funny and I don’t think you were going for funny, so.”

“See?” Jinyoung madly points at him, and Junghwan would laugh more if he wasn’t a bit curious about what they’re supposed to see. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re both being assholes.”

“I accept that,” Sunwoo says.

“ _I_ don’t.” Junghwan knows he must seem stubborn but it’s righteously so.

Jinyoung rubs his forehead. “Really?”

“I think he’s doing the opposite of what Sunwoo is,” Dongwoo notes. Sunwoo chuckles; Junghwan isn’t sure if at him or Dongwoo, but another giggle of his own escapes him. It’s like they’re being told off by the principal or their parents and he’s not capable of taking them seriously.

“Listen,” Jinyoung addresses him, once again, like Sunwoo’s passivity in his farce of a conversation means he’s agreeable, which Junghwan doubts, but of course Sunwoo is hanging him out to dry because that’s clearly who he is now. “The bottom line is that if you don’t work it out on your own, I’ll have to send you to a marriage counsellor.”

An _I_. Not a _we_. Jinyoung is asserting his authority. But no way. “You wouldn’t. You’re bluffing,” he says confidently, and sure enough, the first hint of a smile plays on Jinyoung’s lips.

“Maybe. Well, do you want one of us to be your mediator?”

Junghwan reaches to his old friend sarcasm. “What do you think?”

Chanshik nudges Jinyoung with his foot and wordlessly hands him a readied laptop. “Right,” Jinyoung mumbles. “Look, I didn’t want to do this.”

“Then don’t,” Sunwoo whispers and Junghwan’s head snaps to him. No one else shows any signs of hearing it, everyone focused on the computer, and it’s not fair that Junghwan is the only one who appears bratty, and it’s not fair that maybe it was Sunwoo’s intention for only Junghwan to hear.

“Here we go,” Jinyoung says, the computer in his lap and eyes shooting bullets through the two of them. “If you must know, the fans have noticed. Even _international_ fans.” The word hangs between them like a powerful mystic force.

“What?” Junghwan says, this time genuinely at loss for words.

“It’s all here,” Jinyoung announces with gloomy satisfaction.

“What I want to know,” Sunwoo says and the full sentence from him startles everyone, “how do _you_ know? How-”

“... did you read that?” Junghwan finishes with him.

“Ah, that. I,” Jinyoung looks reluctant all of a sudden, “used an online translator.”

“What does it say?” Junghwan presses.

Jinyoung purses his lips but reluctantly obliges. “First fan: ‘ _Is it just me, or badeul not look so close already? Sad emoticon. They do not communicate and sandeul seems to really switch off_ ,’” Jinyoung eyes them like he wants to make sure they won’t laugh but it’s the last thing Junghwan feels like doing now. “‘ _What happened to my O-T-P. Sad emoticon. It makes me less excited about the new_ ,’” Jinyoung pauses, “‘ _handheld video, because I’m just sad watching them like that_.’

“Another fan: ‘ _It’s definitely not just you. Sad emoticon. I’ve been thinking about it too. I wonder if something happened between them. I wish that I was wrong, but it just feels really hopeless lately. At least I still have my precious shinyoung L-O-L_. _Sorry badeul carrier. Sad emoticon._ ’”

The anticipation of their reactions feels almost tangible and Junghwan can sense even Sunwoo’s eyes digging into him, but there’s a lump in his throat and all he manages is stare at the table ahead.

Sunwoo gets up and everyone widens their eyes. Junghwan wishes he wasn’t part of this and could still find everything funny. Sunwoo doesn’t leave though, only mumbles, “Give it to me,” and kneels down with Jinyoung’s computer in his hands. “Another fan: ‘ _F-F-S how many times we have to go through this. Idols are real people with real lives that do not exist just for our entertainment. You should all get over your head and stop unnecessarily speculate. Fucking hate some shippers._ ’”

Sunwoo looks at Junghwan, but he can’t, and doesn’t know what Sunwoo wants from him, and it’s Dongwoo who breaks the silence. “You know, the goal is that our fans _don’t_ fight with each other.”

Sunwoo gulps. “Right, I know, sorry.” He returns to his seat like a scolded child whose conscience kicked in.

No one on the floor speaks anymore but they all know it’s Junghwan and Sunwoo’s turn now. Junghwan feels the weight of Sunwoo’s presence next to him, still pregnant with expectations and sitting closer than Junghwan remembers. He forces his voice to function. “Right, we’ll…”

“We’ll fix it,” Sunwoo says with finality.

Jinyoung and Dongwoo exchange a look. “Cool,” Jinyoung says quietly, and adds, “We love you.”

“We love you,” Dongwoo and Chanshik each mutter. Even through the pain in his chest Junghwan can feel the tragicomedy of the whole situation. They have conflicts, sure, occasionally big ones, but nothing intervention-because-a-breaking-friendship-is-breaking-the-group big. He can’t remember where it started, how they got here, who was at fault anymore, and the fans pinpointed him. It was him who “seems to switch off” and ruin the excitement for them.

Chanshik kisses Sunwoo’s cheek as everyone heads off to their rooms, leaving Junghwan and Sunwoo with the unspoken now, fix it _now_ , and Junghwan is jealous, not of Sunwoo or Chanshik specifically but of the little gesture of support no one has spared him when he needs it the most.

With the living room cleared out, Junghwan heads to the kitchen to get some water, not explaining himself to Sunwoo but trusting he knows he’s taking it seriously and isn’t about to run off.

He nearly spills the newly filled glass when Jinyoung reappears. “I realized I really needed to pee,” he says in a thin voice.

“Hyung.” Junghwan laughs despite his mess of an emotional state.

On his way back, Jinyoung pinches Junghwan’s cheeks and Junghwan feels the weight inside him lift a little. “I won’t let you in until-”

“I know, don’t worry,” he assures him. The first part is true. He doesn’t know if there’s no need to worry but he knows it’s a shame Jinyoung has had to worry about it as much as he has. For the first time Junghwan’s overwhelmed by the insight into just how selfish he’s been.

He returns to the living room and despite his determination to fix it as they promised, he has no idea where to start and the fear he’s been carrying physically hits him in his stomach. As soon as he sits down on the end of the sofa that’s not occupied by Sunwoo, Sunwoo takes care of the opening. “Do you hate me?”

“What?” This _what_ is panicked, like that time his sister asked him if he told his parents about her skipping school even though Junghwan would never, or that time his teacher thought he cheated, in Music of all subjects. A _what_ that is stalling and rushing all the same, afraid he doesn’t have the words he needs to get across. “No! Why? What?”

Sunwoo is the microscope zooming in on him now and Junghwan’s skin is itching but he knows he has to endure it and take his part if they genuinely want to fix it. And maybe figure out what _it_ even is. God. “Why do you think I hate being in B1A4 then?”

Junghwan frowns, concentrated on getting this conversation right. “I don’t, but...” He did say that. “You… on the broadcast...”

“Laos?” Sunwoo helps him out.

“Yes. You sounded like your acting career means more, like you’re staying with us just ‘cause you have to, like your whole life’s lost its meaning when _Reply_ ended.” He’s careful not to sound too accusatory but he can’t conceal the disappointment in his voice.

Sunwoo doesn’t look guilty though, only thoughtful. “No, it’s just… It was a new feeling, getting to act, but I know I can have it both, and… After doing _God’s Gift_ now, I realized that part of that feeling was specific to _Reply_ , not acting, and obviously I can’t play Biggeure forever.”

Junghwan is ready to let go of the hurt, he’s tired of stashing it in, but Sunwoo’s words free him of one worry and open another. “Specific to _Reply_ … like the hyungs?”

“Yeah.” Even the one word sounds fondly. “The set just really felt like a family.”

“Right,” Junghwan says, and he knows, he knows he is a family to Sunwoo as well, but right now he struggles to keep the knowledge in mind.

Sunwoo grabs Junghwan’s glass and gulps down a good portion of the water. Bizarrely it makes Junghwan feel more normal, and why do his emotions feel like on a rollercoaster? “Do you wanna tell me why you’re acting weird about the hyungs?”

“No,” Junghwan says just to be difficult, and they both snicker. “I guess it’s stuff from the last episode.” He can’t give him more to go off even if it makes or breaks this conflict. The remainders of his self-preservation won’t let him.

Sunwoo puts his thinking face on. “The interviews or the deleted scenes?”

“The interviews,” Junghwan allows.

“Are we playing 20 questions?” Sunwoo asks with relaxed frustration that looks very good on him. Very Sunwoo. His Sunwoo, that is.

“You just wasted one question,” Jungwhan says innocently.

Sunwoo shakes his head and, Junghwan thinks back to a moment ago for comparison, even the little shake looks fondly. “Okay, to summarize…”

Junghwan groans at the embarrassment of it all. “Please don’t summarize. Besides,” he eyes Sunwoo. “Don’t go around calling me weird when you’ve been acting _super_ weird.”

“I see, I’ve topped your weird with my _super_ weird.” It’s amazing, how different Sunwoo’s teasing sounds depending on his mood. Junghwan supposes the same could be said about him. “I accept that.”

“You’re all about self-acceptance today, aren’t you?”

He expects Sunwoo to laugh, and when he doesn’t Junghwan freezes at the possibility he said something wrong. It has been going so smoothly but they’re still fragile and their first conflict hangs over them with the implied verdict that things will change one way or another.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo says finally and almost absent-mindedly. “Hey, how about you meet the hyungs?”

The words appear casual but the tone gives up nervosity Junghwan doesn’t understand. He doesn’t want to meet the hyungs, his irrational resentment too strong and fresh, but maybe it’s the paradox in Sunwoo’s question that makes him nod.

  
  


  
  


The next day everyone is happier than ever. They don’t need to announce it’s fixed for the other members to pick up on it and they express their gratitude with their leisurely cheery selves so much it doesn’t even feel like they have a whole day of work ahead. Junghwan and Sunwoo take up two of the back seats, Junghwan threatens with tickling whenever Sunwoo attempts to pinch his thighs, and they sing along to every girl group song that comes up on the radio and burst into laughter whenever one of them messes up the lyrics.

Junghwan is well aware they didn’t really address either his weird or Sunwoo’s _super_ weird, but life is not a session with a marriage counsellor and the vast difference in feelings from before the talk and after the talk, this time in peace with Sunwoo by his side, gives him confidence he would never let it slip away again.

When Sunwoo’s phone lights up with a text and Sunwoo happily informs him that the hyungs happen to be free to meet tonight, it feels like the forecast is announcing rain at the end of Junghwan’s sunny day, but, following up on the metaphor, nothing an umbrella can’t fix.

“ _You can stand under my umbrella, ella, ella_ ,” Junghwan sings as a warmup for the performance. He’s prepared to channel his newfound strength into singing and sound fucking amazing.

He sucks.

He feels like crying and it must show because Sunwoo meets him outside the waiting room with what might as well be a huge question mark drawn on his face. Junghwan just shakes his head and throws his arm around Sunwoo’s shoulders as they walk to the van.

  
  


  
  


They’re taking a taxi to meet the hyungs and Sunwoo won’t stop tapping his leg. Normally Junghwan would consider it a manifestation of his regular hyperactivity but then there’s the rambling.

“So it’s gonna be just Yeonseokkie hyung tonight, of course it would be difficult to have all four of us free on the same night, we can meet up with Hojunnie hyung some other time, though I think he’s kinda pissed I’m meeting with Yeonseok hyung without him, which doesn’t surprise me ‘cause he’s so needy, don’t tell him I said that, and obviously he wants to meet you, I’ve told him a lot about you, and you’ll really like Yeonseokkie hyung, there’s just this friendly aura about him, and you know, I rewatched the episode last night, and it’s not that they’re the only people I can talk to if that’s what you’re thinking, you know you’re my best friend, it’s just different, not better or worse, just different, like, they’re actors and hyungs, and I’ve never had hyungs like that, and I don’t have enough connections in the showbizness, really, and I’m grateful for them and the whole _Reply_ family, and-”

He goes on and on, doesn’t give Junghwan time to think about what he’s saying or time to feel anything, for that matter, the car buzzing with Sunwoo’s strange anxiety, and the moment it seems to turn into an impromptu winning speech for the best actor, Junghwan can’t take it anymore. “Yah! Why do you sound like you’re taking me to meet your girlfriend?”

Sunwoo stays quiet after that and Junghwan lets out a sigh of relief, puzzled and uneasy but determined to keep an open mind, and generously doesn’t comment on Sunwoo’s restless leg.

  
  


  
  


They take care of formal greetings and walk the short walk to Yoo Yeonseok’s choice of establishment. It’s just a regular pojangmacha, and it’s a choice Junghwan questions before Yeonseok assures them he knows the owner so they don’t have to worry about any surprises in form of a mob of fans. If he feels awkward like Junghwan he certainly doesn’t show it.

“ _Cool guy_ ,” Sunwoo goes in English and grins at him and Yeonseok squeezes him in a half hug with Junghwan trailing behind in their footsteps.

“I had to make proper preparations before meeting with two superstars,” Yeonseok says after they sit down.

“Thank you, sunbae,” Junghwan says automatically.

“Hyung,” Yeonseok corrects him pleasantly, and Junghwan can already see why Sunwoo would call him likeable, more so in person, and Junghwan doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s more difficult to resent this actual, likable person in front of him when he’s no longer a hearsay from television or Sunwoo’s stories. But there’s this imbalance between the three of them that Junghwan doesn’t know how to navigate, with Yeonseok being a friendly hyung, Sunwoo comfortably gravitating toward him, and Junghwan not feeling like Sunwoo’s plus one but a clueless visitor in someone else’s house. Not only that but he can’t get rid of the impression that whenever Sunwoo takes note of his presence, the easiness he oozes with only Yeonseok in mind disappears.

“You know, I was really nervous at the first table-read when we were doing introductions and you were like, ‘I’m Baro from B1A4,’ not even a regular name, and Wonho hyung said you were the most famous person in the room. _Really_ nervous.”

Junghwan has no idea who Wonho hyung is.

Sunwoo gapes at Yeonseok. “What, because of me? I was the most stressed one, you were all actors and I felt like a stupid idol.”

“Yeah, but you did well.” Yeonseok reaches over to pet Sunwoo’s arm, and turns to Junghwan. “I think I’m only able not to be starstruck around you ‘cause you’re Sunwoo’s friend. What’s your idol name?”

Sunwoo turns to look at him, expression suddenly blank, his sad kind of blank. “Sandeul.” He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Baro and Sandeul,” Yeonseok repeats.

Sunwoo smiles. “Yeah, only Jinyoung hyung got to keep his real name. I don’t mind much though.”

“Me neither,” Junghwan says dumbly.

Yeonseok doesn’t order soju because he has to drive so Junghwan follows his lead and Sunwoo sticks to water as well, and Yeonseok treats them to a plate of tteokbokki.

Sunwoo stuffs his mouth first and talks next. “You know that if Hojun hyung was here he would get wasted.”

“That he would.” Yeonseok’s eyes crinkle. “And then make me-”

“Make you drive him home, yeah.”

Junghwan telepathically urges Sunwoo to make an effort to include him in the conversation since he was the one who brought him here but it’s Yeonseok again who addresses him. “Junghwan, have you done any acting?”

“Only musicals,” he says and helps himself to food as well, both because he’s hungry and because he doesn’t think talking to your elder with your mouth full is a behavior he should copy, therefore his brief answers will be justified.

“Wah, I’m jealous,” Yeonseok says and Junghwan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I did a bit of live theater but not enough and it’s definitely a whole different experience.”

“You can sing though, you could do musicals even.” It’s glaring, how Sunwoo lights up when it comes to Yeonseok and turns to stone with Junghwan.

Yeonseok puts his hands up defensively. “Don’t say that in front of the...! main vocal? lead vocal?” he laughs. “I only sang once for the _Reply_ soundtrack and I was coerced into that.”

His phone beeps. “It’s Hojunnie,” he explains after he checks the message. “I’m telling him to go to bed.”

Sunwoo pulls out his phone he must have had on vibrate and bursts out laughing. “Hyung, he messaged me too.”

“Okay, you tell him to go to bed, I’m gonna tell him to fuck off.”

Sunwoo holds onto Yeonseok’s knee as he bends over in a new wave of laughter. Junghwan smiles politely even though no one is looking at him and wonders how it’s possible that _Hojunnie_ is more engaged in his get-together than he is without being present.

The phones go back into their pockets - Yeonseok tells them he’s putting it on silent mode just in case - and glances from Sunwoo to Junghwan and back to Sunwoo. “Confirm?”

Junghwan has no idea what that’s supposed to mean and in the silence that follows it seems like Sunwoo doesn’t either until, “Confirm.”

Junghwan was hoping Yeonseok is very, very 4D because the alternative only means another inside joke no one bothers to explain to him. Well, he knows what it is, it’s Sunwoo’s line in _Reply_ and the whole group has joked about it numerous times, but he can’t see the purpose of randomly reciting it during a normal conversation. It might be the _Reply_ actors’ favorite pastime for all he knows but it sure as hell isn’t helping Junghwan feel any less of an outsider.

He isn’t even upset with Sunwoo. He can’t be, not right after they returned to their standard selves, and he gets that having two people from different spheres of your life together always takes time to get used to and Sunwoo probably didn’t realize that ahead. He just wishes he wouldn’t leave him stranded, and Junghwan is going to have something to say about that later, like a friend that talks to his friend and doesn’t allow anything unsaid turn into weirdness.

“Junghwan,” Yeonseok take pity on him again, “did you watch _Reply_? _1994_ , obviously.”

Before he can answer Sunwoo takes the words out of his mouth. “He watches everything I’m in.”

Junghwan can’t help but beam at the sudden recognition, which is a little embarrassing, especially when Yeonseok and Sunwoo smile at each other despite the current exchange being about Junghwan.

Yeonseok takes a mouthful of tteokbokki and continues. “You know, the role of Binggeure is really important to Sunwoo.”

“So I heard,” Junghwan says, concluding it’s time to resign to playing the third wheel to the wonderful world of _Reply_ Sunwoo and Yeonseok share until he can inquire with Sunwoo what on earth he was thinking.

“There were lots of speculations about the role, actually,” Yeonseok says, Sunwoo nodding lazily next to him and staring down at the napkin he’s fiddling with.

“Yeah?” Junghwan feels like on a variety show. The cue card would read, _reaction: show interest_.

Yeonseok hums. “Lots of fans were wondering if he was like… Do you know Hoya’s character in _1997_?”

“Uh-huh,” Junghwan lets out before he remembers manners. “Yes.” Vague dread creeps into his stomach. Such a strange topic to bring up. He glances at Sunwoo to see what he thinks about it but it seems like they’ve collectively decided it’s Yeonseok and Junghwan’s showtime now, Sunwoo’s cue card reading, _reaction: listen to Yeonseok, nod in agreement_.

“Yeah, well, the fans were speculating if Binggeure was supposed to be like Hoya’s character. What do you think?”

Junghwan can’t believe he’s being put on the spot like that, about something like that. He mentally curses Sunwoo for helping him out with the one question Junghwan could answer and abandoning him again in such critical moment. (He is not mad but they will so need to talk, in a healthy manner, et cetera.)

“Erm.” So his first word of the sentence isn’t a real word but he feels like he can’t escape the question with an _I don’t know_ if he wants Yeonseok to see him as at least a semi intelligent person. “Well, he got together with the girl so doesn’t that settle it?” He doesn’t miss the look Sunwoo and Yeonseok exchange.

“You would think so,” Yeonseok says not unkindly, and he does seem nice, but Junghwan is really quite tired and wishes he could fast-forward time and just be home with his own hyungs, “but there are people who are attracted to both men and women so personally I think that’s the case for Binggeure.”

Yeonseok acts like that’s commonly known information, like this is a common topic of conversation. There are only few reasons he would know that. “What do _you_ think, Sunwoo?” Junghwan blurts out.

He startles at the sound of his name and slowly moves his head like he was just in a deep trance, stopping short from looking at Junghwan. “I was asking Wonho hyung about it and he never told me.”

“But you must have had your own theory when playing the role?” Yeonseok asks, all silly humor left behind.

“I know he was finding himself,” Sunwoo says thoughtfully, “in more than one way, so that’s how I approached it. And when I got the script with the girl, I also thought it was decided. But what Yeonseokkie hyung says makes sense. I just didn’t understand lots of stuff back then.”

Junghwan didn’t realize how tense his body is until he’s hit with sudden pressure on his chest and quickening pulse. Yeonseok and Sunwoo exchange yet another look and a little private smile as if Junghwan wouldn’t notice, and all the puzzle pieces finally click together.

“I don’t feel well,” he utters, and he doesn’t care about the timing because he’s not lying, and if he has any say in it he won’t have to see Yeonseok ever again so he can let him think whatever.

Sunwoo jumps to his feet and everything starts happening really fast. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing serious, I’m just…”

Yeonseok gets up too with a focused expression. “He looks pale.”

“I think it’s like…” Sunwoo moves behind his chair and massages the back of Junghwan’s neck. “We get dizzy like that sometimes, ‘cause of our schedules.”

“Right, well...” Yeonseok gestures to the auntie who brought them food earlier. He must be good in crisis and Junghwan’s mind stupidly thinks of his dad. “Do you want me to drive you home?”

The hand on Junghwan’s neck pauses. “We can just catch a taxi.”

“I should drive you,” Yeonseok says and manages to pay at the same time.

“But isn’t it out of your way? Or do you…?” Sunwoo puts his other hand on the top of Junghwan’s head.

“No, it’s fine, I’m gonna be fine, honestly.” He isn’t fine now and can’t think back to what happened before or think about what will happen next and so he embraces the role of a sick Junghwan he doesn’t have to fake.

Yeonseok bites his lip. “I’m gonna catch the taxi, then.”

Sunwoo stands guard by Junghwan the whole time they wait.

  
  


  
  


“Do you need to lie down?” Sunwoo asks his fifth question in a row, holding Junghwan’s hand since the moment they got into the car.

“No, I’m gonna be fine by the time we’re there, it’s like you said, the idol disease. I’m already feeling better.”

Sunwoo retrieves his hand without a warning. “I’m gonna text hyung and tell him, he’s probably worried.”

A minute passes without Sunwoo putting his phone down, clearly texting him more than that, and Junghwan is forced to prepare the questions he can’t ignore but has to put on hold until they leave the car and the driver.

Yeonseok paid the fee ahead so when they reach the apartment building they only bid the ahjussi goodbye and stand in the warm night, streets empty at this hour.

“We should get you to bed.”

“Actually I want to sit and talk for a bit,” Junghwan says resolutely.

“Here?” Sunwoo shrugs at Junghwan’s nod and they sit down on the curb of the parking lot. “Are you _fine_ fine so I can make fun of how ghostly you looked already?”

Junghwan studies Sunwoo’s face lit by the nearby streetlamp. “I was right, wasn’t I? You were acting like you were introducing me to your girlfriend because you _were_. And that explains why you were being weird!” He meant to assume a calm demeanor but it’s like the proverbial light bulb switched on in his head after he was in the dark for so long, and what he sees is so big his voice refuses to follow his intentions.

Sunwoo does his trademark duck mouth. “ _Super_ weird. And your saturi is really strong right now.”

“Don’t joke with me right now, Cha Sunwoo, I can’t believe _he’s_ your girlfriend, I can’t believe.”

Sunwoo keeps making dumb faces.“What girlfriend though, what are you talking about?”

“Or boyfriend, whatever,” Junghwan specifies and Sunwoo visibly sobers up like he’s _just_ getting it and Junghwan is starting to doubt his intelligence. Did he honestly thought Junghwan wouldn’t notice? “Him, of all people, when you could date anyone. Did it start in Laos? Don’t tell me it started with _Reply_. I don’t-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sunwoo interrupts him with a strange new look after he kept staring at Junghwan like he was struck by a lightning. “Does it bother you that it’s _a_ him or that it’s _him_?”

Junghwan is fired up like never before. “It bothers me that you didn’t tell me, it-” He replays the question Sunwoo just asked him. “No, it doesn’t bother me that it’s a man, do you think so lowly of me that you would think that? I mean it’s weird and I don’t get it, but it’s you, why would I-”

“So it bothers you ‘cause you think it’s hyung?”

“What?” Junghwan gapes at him. “Well, yes, he’s so much older than you and I can’t believe you would risk your career like that and… I don’t like him,” he finishes pathetically, feeling the energy running out.

“That’s really fucking rude,” Sunwoo says and gets up, not sounding angry, almost suave instead, “he even took care of you when you were sick. But for the record, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“You _would_ say that,” Junghwan mumbles, still trying to wrap his mind around Sunwoo dating that guy and a guy, and feeling increasingly sleepy at once.

Sunwoo laughs and pulls him up. “Come on, we’re getting up in a few hours.”

  
  


  
  


Junghwan and Sunwoo have breakfast together, sit together on their way to the schedule, like they need to make up for the time they lost fighting, and Junghwan spends the whole day glaring at him pointedly with Sunwoo repaying him with smug smiles.

“You’re loving this, why are you loving this?” Junghwan finally says when they’re killing time together on sofas they found in a random corridor at the music station. Idol life is like 10% sleep, 40% work, and 50% waiting, he swears to god. “I told you I don’t approve of your boyfriend, does my opinion mean nothing to you?”

“Junghwan, you idiot.” Sunwoo doesn’t look up from the game he’s playing on his phone. “I already told you he’s not my boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend. Yet.”

“Oh, oh!” Junghwan perks up. “So you admit it, you have the hots for him.”

“A minute ago you thought he was my boyfriend, make up your mind on what you think I’m supposed to admit.”

Junghwan glances at the clock on the wall. “Let’s pause this, I need to throw up.”

Sunwoo pushes him. “You’re being _too_ dramatic now.”

“No, we’re going on stage soon and I’ve been sounding so awful lately,” Junghwan admits out loud what he hasn’t before. “I wish I could just throw it up, is what I’m mean.”

“That’s still being too dramatic,” Sunwoo says, “I haven’t noticed anything.”

“Of course not, you only ever pay attention to what interests you.”

“You’re not making any sense either, Junghwannie.”

Junghwan is too spiked with nerves, and not the good kind, to argue with that.

  
  


  
  


“See? See? See? See? See?” Sunwoo’s jumping up and down, using Junghwan’s shoulder to push himself higher.

“I sucked, didn’t I?”

Sunwoo spins him around to see if he’s serious, and pauses. “You sounded fine, honestly.”

Maybe he did, he’ll check the recording later, but that’s not even the point. He doesn’t work to meet the standard, he works to meet _his_ standard, and it might sound fine to everyone else but it’s no use if he can’t feel it, emote with it like he had always done. He’s of the opinion that if the emotions can’t reach his heart, he can’t expect them to reach anyone else’s and have them connect with his music on more than a superficial level, and he doesn’t know any other way.

  
  


  
  


There is a lot on Junghwan’s mind but solitary contemplation hasn’t done him much good lately so with everyone out and about, he tries calling Jinyoung.

“Hyung, you’re at the studio?”

“Yep.”

“Composing?”

“Yep.”

“Does that mean you don’t want company right now?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Junghwan giggles as he prepares snacks to bring with him. Jinyoung can be so business-like and puts what needs to be done before what he wants to do, but behind an effective leader there is a 25-year-old boy who hates being by himself more than anything else.

  
  


  
  


“Can I listen to what you have so far?” Junghwan asks through his second pack of potato chips.

Jinyoung gulps down some coke and shakes his head. “I want to work on it some more. You’ll be the first to hear though.” He pauses. “You or Dongwoo.”

“Hey!” Junghwan throws a chip at him, which lands next to Jinyoung, who simply picks it up and eats it. His eyes follow the pack like he’s a hungry dog.

“Try throwing them in my mouth,” he prompts Junhwan.

Junghwan looks at his potato chips with much consideration. “Nah, this isn’t easy stuff to throw, we would just waste them.”

Jinyoung lets out a whiny sound. “But they’re my favorite.”

Junghwan rolls his eyes and passes him the chips. He’s got a whole variety of snacks and he’s not a picky eater as everyone and their mother knows. (It makes him think of his school days when all of his friends’ mothers always praised him for eating so well, and his friends hated him a little for the praise and implied comparison.)

“Hey, you and Sunwoo are good, right?” Jinyoung says after a while of only sounds of crunching filling the room.

“Great,” he says, a little ominously because the question reminds him of what he plans to bring up, unbeknown to Jinyoung.

“Good. I thought so. Just. Wanted to make sure,” Jinyoung says apologetically.

“Understood,” Junghwan says and takes a deep breath. He already knows how silly he’s going to sound. “Hyung, when you play the guitar I find it kind of sexy. Really sexy, actually.”

Jinyoung keeps gazing into the imaginary distance and the only way Junghwan thinks to interpret it is that his statement literally froze him in place, but Jinyoung then looks at him with what seems to be slight amazement. “You know, I think that’s when I genuinely find myself sexy too. Not just like, what the fans or the management think is sexy but you don’t really feel it yourself.”

That’s an interesting train of thoughts but not one Junghwan intended. He should have known that the remark itself wouldn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary because it’s not an issue unless someone makes an issue out of it. He needs to give away more. “Also, I love your eyes. Though that might be just ‘cause I’m jealous since mine always look tired,” he adds as an afterthought, and of course that’s what Jinyoung chooses to focus on, his expression turning worried.

“You’re tired?”

“No! Well, yes, of course, but are you even listening to what I’m saying, hyung?” He pouts, not trying to be cute but feeling impatience in every inch of his body.

“You’re tired and think I’m sexy when I play the guitar and my eyes might be sexy too but you’re not sure,” Jinyoung lists off.

 _Yes!_ Junghwan wants to scream, _and?_ “Well, doesn’t that surprise you?”

“Not really.” Jinyoung shows no change in his casual attitude whatsoever. “You’re always _really_ enthusiastic when I play the guitar.”

That catches _Junghwan_ by surprise and it takes him a while before he gathers up the courage to continue. “I’m not,” he says sheepishly, except that’s the opposite of where he’s trying to take this and he can’t back off now. “Fine, but, well, if I find you sexy doesn’t that make me a homosexual?”

There, he said. The silence that follows feels deadly and Jinyoung’s face finally takes on a different dimension. Slightly different, that is, and Junghwan has no idea what it means. He might be the boy with no poker face but other people should learn to use their facial muscles more so the rest of the world has something to go off of.

“We all agree Channie is sexy, does that make all of us homosexuals?”

Is he trying to be funny? He leans toward a no. “Obviously not, but someone has to be a homosexual.” The word loses its gravity and becomes plain ridiculous.

“Someone like in the group or the general population or…?” Jinyoung says like they’re trying to solve a philosophical problem. Junghwan rubs his eye sockets helplessly and Jinyoung sits up straighter. “I’m trying, I just don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Is that so?” Junghwan remains frustrated and suspicious but Jinyoung truly doesn’t look like he’s aiming to drive him crazy. “Did Sunwoo talk to you?”

Jinyoung looks relieved that they’ve moved on to more pragmatic matters. “About what?”

“You tell me.” Junghwan is set on catching Jinyoung’s bluff if there is any.

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me so I can tell you if he did talk to me about it?”

“Hyung, _really_?”

“I thought you said you and Sunwoo were good.”

“We are, why? Did he say something?”

“No?”

Jinyoung is either the most clueless person alive or the world’s best actor.

  
  


  
  


Everyone has agreed to come to the company and practice whatever needs to be practiced when finish with their individual schedules so Junghwan finds himself alone and waiting, trying to find the magic in his singing, and ending up squatting in front of the wall mirrors in the practice room and looking at the human disaster that he is. “What happened to you?” He can’t even bring himself to use a strict tone so he settles for self-pity. “You used to be one of the most requested members and now you’re here, with no schedule, and you can’t sing anymore. You might as well go back to Busan and become the local shame.”

“Hey, are you- What are you doing?”

Junghwan takes one look at Sunwoo in the mirror and raises to his feet. At least he has a purpose now. It’s something he worked on last night and he can postpone his potential flee to Busan until after what he learns. It can play a pivotal role in deciding if it’s the best option, actually. “You, come with me.”

“But I wanted to take a shower,” Sunwoo whines when Junghwan grabs his hand and drags him along, ignoring his pleas. He just needs an undisturbed place where they can talk, which isn’t a difficult task as no one appears to be around, not even one of those endless trainees passing them in the hallways sometimes like ghosts, eager and desperate all the same, and Junghwan wishes he could say, _it’s gonna happen, your debut is around the corner_ , to each and every one of them, but the truth is that you just don’t know, and sometimes around the corner there’s just another corner that it feels like a fucking maze.

He only semi consciously leads Sunwoo to his favorite vocal room, an embarrassing picture of Junghwan hanging above the piano, which used to fill him with pride nonetheless and now he just looks past it with a bittersweet knot in his stomach.

“There, sit, the swivel chair.”

Sunwoo obliges and Junghwan has to fight the urge to _good boy_ him because now it’s not the time to get distracted by Sunwoo acting like an obedient puppy.

“Okay, so.” He takes out the folded paper he put into his back pocket, all wrinkled from travelling between the denim and Junghwan’s butt, and slides another chair closer so he can sit the opposite of Sunwoo.

“What, what, what, what, what,” Sunwoo starts repeating in a random aegyo voice and makes grabby hands at the paper, and Junghwan supposes obedient and a puppy is an oxymoron.

“No! You stay put,” he says, evoking the strict tone he couldn’t muster up earlier. “I’ll tell you what it is, you just need to promise me to stay in your seat and fully cooperate.”

“ _Yes, sir_ ,” Sunwoo says in English, and if Junghwan couldn’t trust his concentration until now, the last of the trust is shattered to pieces when Sunwoo starts spinning around in his chair. Junghwan stops it with his foot.

“Do I need to sedate you?”

“No, sorry, I’m calm.”

He hardly is but Junghwan would give him A for effort, the effort in Sunwoo’s case being humming with an absent-minded expression as he waits for further instructions but having his eyes on Junghwan still, and Junghwan almost wishes he hadn’t gotten himself so vulnerable to such close scrutiny should Sunwoo choose to go down that road.

“These,” he raises the paper to Sunwoo’s line of sight, careful to present him with the blank side, “are my 20 questions.”

“Oh.”

Junghwan is fairly sure he isn’t imagining the sudden change in atmosphere. If Sunwoo were the puppy that was waggling his tail and carelessly sniffing around moments before, he’d be now an alert one with his ears perked up like someone just mentioned food.

“What am I supposed to be?”

“Just be you,” Junghwan clarifies. “Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?” he pretends to read so he can avoid Sunwoo’s absent-turned-sharp look for a little longer, even though it was just what he hoped to achieve.

“I swear.”

“Good.” Junghwan nods importantly, glances up, and the second their eyes meet they simultaneously burst out laughing.

“All right, let’s do this,” he says more loudly than necessary, edging on eager and desperate like those poor rookies. He does feel like one, a sunbae in arts, a trainee in… emotional stability, and stuff.

“Sunbae in arts, trainee in farts,” he says out loud.

Sunwoo digs fingers of each hand into Junghwan’s thighs to keep himself steady through the mad laughter that overcomes him. Junghwan feels proud, even though it’s utter nonsense that made Sunwoo laugh, _because_ it’s utter nonsense, because it’s Cha Sunwoo with his ability to make Junghwan sick to his stomach while also being the one person that makes him positive it’s going to be fine. Whether it ends with arts or farts, Junghwan is fine with it as long as it’s with him.

He lets the giggles die out and taps on the paper. “Do you mind?”

“Please.” Sunwoo accompanies it with an unsolicited kick into Junghwan’s shin, and he blindly kicks back into the thin air.

“First question. Are you dating Mr Yoo Yeonseok?”

“Jung _hwan_ , I thought we’ve covered this.” In contrast to his words, Sunwoo grins widely and it’s all very suspicious.

“That was before you were under oath,” Junghwan reminds him.

Sunwoo puts his hand up. “I am not dating Yeonseokkie hyung.” Junghwan rolls his eyes at the nickname. “Or sleeping with him or having any relations of the kind with him.”

Junghwan makes a face. “Lalala, too much information.”

“Just wanted to cover all your bases,” Sunwoo says happily. Junghwan kicks him with better accuracy this time.

“Well, good. Next question. Do you want to be dating Mr Yoo Yeonseok,” Sunwoo raises his eyebrows so Junghwan reluctantly continues, “or sleep with him or blablabla relations?”

“Show me the paper, I thought this was supposed to be serious business.” Sunwoo is fast but Junghwan’s protective instinct wins over and he’s clutching the paper to his chest before Sunwoo can get to it first.

“Are you scoffing at the court? That’s a punishable offense.”

“I don’t think the phrase is ‘scoffing at the court.’”

“You’re doing it again.”

They enter an impromptu staring match for a few moments before Sunwoo scrunches his face. “Please, you know I can’t do this just sitting still and not getting to provide any commentary, _please_.”

Junghwan suppresses a smile or, most likely, fails to suppress a smile. “Fine, I’ll allow this. But no stealing. Get it?” Sunwoo beams at him and nods. “Do you have any more commentary or will you answer my question so we can move on?”

“Can you repeat the question?” Sunwoo says with a sorry look.

“You’re so lucky you have me,” Junghwan mutters as he skims through the list for the exact wording.

“True,” Sunwoo says casually but Junghwan’s brain refuses to take it as such, and he clears his throat just because he feels like he needs to do something, give a physical outlet to his not at all casual puddle of feelings.

“The question was,” his voice is somehow slightly hoarse _after_ the cough, “if you want to… have relations with Mr Yoo Yeonseok.”

Sunwoo claps his hands together, making Junghwan jump up in his chair. “I do have more commentary! What would you do if I answered yes on the previous question, huh?”

“Aha.” This time Junghwan eyes Sunwoo smugly. “You think you’re smart but I have a system. Think of it as levels. If your answer doesn’t meet the level, the game is over and you won’t get to hear the rest of the questions, which, by the way, are ordered from the least to the most important one. And I’m the referee, obviously.”

Sunwoo looks impressed and appalled at once. “That sounds like the most unfair game ever but call. Is there at least an award if I get through all the levels?”

Arts or farts, Junghwan thinks. “You’ll see, if you get there. No cheating.”

“No cheating,” Sunwoo echoes unusually solemnly. “The answer is no.”

Junghwan makes imaginary drumroll with his hands, partly to distract himself from the giddiness that is sneakily taking over him. “You pass!”

“Woo-hoo.”

“Next. If Mr Yoo Yeonseok asked you out, would you say yes?”

Sunwoo employs a new violent technique and flicks into his knee. “Can you give me a spoiler and tell me if all 20 questions are about hyung?”

“No.” Junghwan waits till Sunwoo opens his mouth in protest, and brings it to a halt. “No, they’re not.”

“I see what you did there.” Funnily enough, Sunwoo offers his palm for a high five, but everyone learned long ago not to think too hard about the logic in Junghwan and Sunwoo’s dynamics, Junghwan first of them all, so he follows (surprised to feel sweat on Sunwoo’s hand). “And it’s a triple negative, nope, I wouldn’t go out with Yeonseokkie hyung.”

“ _Congratulations, congratulations_ ,” Junghwan sings, and tries to push away the dig at his recent failures in singing that his mind attacks him with even now.

Sunwoo dances along but the glare he aims at Junghwan afterward is real in power. “Yah, don’t hate him though. He’s a really good guy.”

Junghwan reassembles his thoughts with all the new information he’s got. “He seems like one,” he admits finally. “That leads us to the following question. Are Mr Yoo Yeonseok and Mr Son Hojun dating?”

Sunwoo groans first and turns dumbfounded next. “Did you say it was in order of importance? I’m starting to think you’re the one interested in hyung.”

“I’m not the questioned one here.” Junghwan can’t quite believe it, how quickly he got used to talking about two men dating in a _this is an actual thing that happens_ way after he almost had a heart attack at the pojangmacha. Then again, it’s Sunwoo, maybe it couldn’t have happened any other way. He wonders briefly how Sunwoo reached this point. “I was just curious.”

“ _I’m so curious, yeah_ ,” Sunwoo sings, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, and it’s incredibly well timed it is for the question Junghwan wrote next. Or badly timed, it depends. He almost doesn’t want to ask so he doesn’t jinx it, but he feels like he should. He puts his dilemma aside because Sunwoo still hasn’t answered his previous inquiry. “I’m like, 93% sure they’re not dating.”

“That’s… specific.”

Sunwoo shrugs. “Margin of error.”

Junghwan can imagine that if they had known each other younger than the age of 18 when they were introduced, he would have eaten up anything Sunwoo would have fed him out of his probably wild child’s imagination.

He refocuses on his writing and remembers it’s _that_ question’s turn. “Next, it’s just… I wanted to know if you really think you can’t sing.” He searches Sunwoo’s face, willing his own not to show how anxious he is to hear the answer, worried he’d scare him into pretending.

“Nah, it’s… This is going to sound really cheesy,” Sunwoo says after a moment of contemplation and waits for Junghwan’s reaction.

“We’re all cheeses,” Junghwan says simply and Sunwoo smiles a little before continuing.

“I’ve realized that… like Jinyoung hyung said the other day, we’re a team, and we can’t be all good at singing like you or good at dancing like Dongwoo hyung, and I could go on, you know, and I rap and get to write all my raps, and I actually really like that, how we all sort of complete the team.”

“I know,” Junghwan says quietly.

Sunwoo meets his eyes. “I just don’t want other people to think I’m bad.”

“They don’t,” Junghwan says. “They really, really don’t.” It’s a bit clumsy but he thinks Sunwoo gets it.

“Well?” Sunwoo disturbs the placid air around them.

“Well?”

“Was that good enough for another level?”

“Oh, shut up. I’m… not sure what I was thinking with the order,” he says after reading what’s to come while Sunwoo’s still too sentimental to tease him about it full-on.

“I bet.” Sunwoo leans in to peek at the paper and Junghwan smacks him with it.

“Go back to your territory! The next question is,” he recites bravely, because showing weakness would only make it worse, “what is my visual ranking?”

Sunwoo’s smirk returns. Junghwan hates how much he loves him. (Except for how he doesn’t hate it at all.) “We do this stuff all the time though.”

“I mean, yeah, like idols. But if you were, like, a fan.” He might be holding his breath a little.

“Ah, but I see stuff the fans don’t see, like how you look right after you wake up or when you get drunk, and I’ve known you since before our debut.”

Junghwan can’t say he didn’t walk right into that. “Okay, ha ha, whatever.”

“No, that’s a good thing,” Sunwoo says in a surprised tone, and Junghwan finds himself too fragile for this. He never remembers how insecure he can get about his looks and the alarm bells in his head go off only after it happens. “It gives you good points.”

“Right, okay.”

Sunwoo won’t stop looking at him and Junghwan experiences the real downfall of this seating arrangement. “Why are you so dense? I’ll tell you your visual rank, then. Second.”

“Out of the whole group, not just the two of us,” Junghwan says blankly.

“I know, that’s what I’m saying. I’m first if you were wondering.”

Junghwan gives him a look, fond but tired. He is so ready for the next question. “And you honestly expect me to take what you’re saying seriously.”

“First of all, rude, but really, you need to learn some self-love from me, didn’t you say I was an expert?”

“Self-acceptance,” he corrects him automatically, “not self-love. And, anyway, you pass.”

“You really are dense.”

“Let it go, okay? Next question.” He sounds more irritated than he feels but he suspects it’s the only way Sunwoo will take a hint. He does, looking like Junghwan hurt his feelings instead of the other way around, being the ridiculous person he is sometimes. Junghwan’s love is deep but not blind. “What is EXO’s visual ranking and why?”

Sunwoo fiddles with his bracelet, the mood awkward in the aftermath of the previous exchange. “I don’t think I can even recognize, like, more than five members.”

“Do SHINee sunbaes then.”

Sunwoo waggles his eyebrows, and that’s the advantage to ridiculous people, Junghwan thinks in the midst of laughing that ensues.

“The first is Minho hyung, “ Sunwoo begins once they calm down. “And why?” Junghwan nods. “‘Cause he’s always nice whenever I see him at sporting events and he was in Brazil during the Cup too so we got to exchange a few words. It’s not that I want to have relations with him,” Sunwoo specifies before Junghwan can gather up the courage to ask, “but I’m emotionally attached so for the sake of possible future friendship I’m making him number one.”

Junghwan can’t think of anything to say back, it is just utterly fascinating. It’s the first time he’s hearing about Sunwoo’s thoughts on men aside from their banter about Yeonseok.

“Then Onew hyung. I like people with cute eye smiles.”

Junghwan gulps when Sunwoo glances at him for a second.

“Then Jonghyun hyung ‘cause who wouldn’t be into him and can you please please please let me stop now, I’m already gonna feel fucking embarrassed when I run into them somewhere.” Sunwoo hides his face behind his fists, and Junghwan absolutely didn’t see this meltdown coming.

“We do this with girls all the time,” he says confusedly.

“Yeah, but like, I don’t know…” Sunwoo keeps squirming, and Junghwan starts wondering if he somehow messed up when Sunwoo looks up, collected as quickly as he fell apart before. “You’re amazing.”

“Thanks?” Junghwan hopes he isn’t blushing at the out-of-nowhere statement. He thought about making Sunwoo show him aegyo since he didn’t finish the question but he’s too flustered to do anything beyond reading what’s on the paper. “Right. You levelled up, and this… Right. Did you hook up with Miss A’s Min sunbae?”

“What?” Sunwoo laughs and Junghwan joins in. It’s just how they work. “That’s so random.”

“Not really, we did a couple interviews with her and you two were always so flirty, and you sang that duet with her for _Ignition_.”

“Following this logic you’re hooking up with Chanshik,” Sunwoo points out, but Junghwan doesn’t feel like his question is that unreasonable. “Nope, my social life has been as uneventful as yours.”

Junghwan stomps on his foot and Sunwoo doesn’t stop to exhibit pain and brings Junghwan’s hand to his mouth and bites it. Junghwan is less resilient. “Ow!”

Sunwoo starts humming happily and tapping his unaffected foot to the rhythm.

“ _Let It Go?_ ”

Sunwoo nods with the beat. “Harmonize with me.”

Junghwan wants to but the critical voice in his heads tells him off. “Can’t remember the words,” he lies because the order might be imperfect but it’s still important and the most important issues still lie far ahead.

“ _Let it go, let it go, can’t nanana anymore_ ,” Sunwoo starts by himself and Junghwan lets him improvise a few verses before intervening.

“Next question, it’s a good one!” With Sunwoo’s attention on him - well, part of it anyway with how antsy he’s growing, so it’s a good thing they’re nearly at question ten - Junghwan presents his personal favorite of the list. “If you were a squirrel and I was a duck, would we still be friends?”

“No,” Sunwoo says immediately and Junghwan’s face falls.

“I’m glad you put so much thought and faith into our friendship,” he says.

“No, it’s like, scientific.” Sunwoo remains unperturbed. “I was trying to find videos of ducks and squirrels on YouTube once and all that came up were things like ‘a squirrel attacks a duck,’ ‘a squirrel angry at a duck,’ and stuff.”

“Really?” Junghwan takes in both the fact that it’s something Sunwoo looked up before and that they’re clearly not destined to be together in the animal kingdom. “So you bully me even in your animal form.”

Sunwoo opens his mouth, probably to defend himself through offense, but thinks better of it and mutters through gritted teeth, which make Junghwan double up with laughter so much that the chair swings dangerously under him, “Never, Junghwannie.”

“I’ll let you pass for the research you’ve done even though it was a terrible answer.”

“How many more questions?” Sunwoo asks like a little child and Junghwan knows he’s losing him. It’s a good thing he’s so well prepared. Ish.

“Actually, we’re just on question ten, which is a free pass.”

Sunwoo blows a raspberry. “What is that?”

“It means you get a short break to do whatever.”

“I wuv you,” Sunwoo says, and Junghwan doesn’t grieve the lost opportunity for an aegyo request because he likes Sunwoo’s best when it’s unprompted anyway. “Do you wanna race with the chairs in the hallway?”

Junghwan answers by pushing himself off toward the door.

  
  


  
  


Junghwan needed the break as well to brace himself for the things to come. They return happy and relaxed but the familiar nerves begin poking around Junghwan’s stomach. He wasn’t just trying to be entertaining with the talk about order and levels. They’re reaching a point where he can’t foresee how he’s going to feel about Sunwoo’s answers and how far up on the question ladder they can climb.

“Okay, so.” He watches Sunwoo return the chair to its original position and look at Junghwan expectantly without any nudging needed; he thinks about their schedules and infrequent sleeping hours and life going on outside of this room and Sunwoo wanting to take a shower after his activities, and blurts out, “Why are you doing this? That’s not _the_ question yet, I’m just…” He laughs self-consciously.

“‘Cause I want to,” Sunwoo says matter-of-factly, “since you wanted me to.”

“We could just…” Junghwan gestures toward the exit.

“No way, I want to win” Sunwoo pouts, like it’s a real game and not something silly Junghwan came up with. “Don’t be a quitter.”

He isn’t really thinking about what he’s saying, not so short after the break when Junghwan isn’t dealing him any challenges, but Junghwan holds onto his words anyway. He didn’t get here by being a quitter and Sunwoo used his free will to decide he wants to be here with him, and all they have to do is stay and see it through the end.

“Call.”

Sunwoo gives him a thumbs-up.

“Welcome to the second half of my 20 questions. Is Yeonseok hyung-”

“Lee Junghwan, you did not.”

Junghwan shrieks and giggles as Sunwoo grabs him by his shoulders and starts shaking him with a grin. “I didn’t, I didn’t, I’m totally messing with you.”

Sunwoo stops shaking but doesn’t let go and Junghwan realizes his face is so close he can feel his breath. There’s a shortage in his ability to think so he just keeps staring at Sunwoo and waits while Sunwoo keeps grinning and staring at him, and then the grip loosens and Sunwoo shakes his head. “You.”

“ _You_ ’re… you.” Junghwan shouldn’t be attempting their regular banter when he’s still out of his wits.

“What’s the real question?” Sunwoo says with his hands folded on his lap, the grin subtler now but not leaving his face.

Junghwan would have thought his absurd conversation with Jinyoung trained him enough, but his voice ends up shaking around the word anyway. “Are you a homosexual?”

Once it’s out, Sunwoo loses the grin and moves his lips around but Junghwan interprets it as a preparation for the answer rather than a downspirall in his mood. “Probably not.”

Junghwan freezes. It’s like a huge rock was just dropped on his head, his thoughts frantic with panic and confusion and wonder if this was all a big joke, a private hidden camera, those always look funnier on the screen than they feel on the receiving end, and when did Sunwoo start pretending, then? he can’t even begin to try to pinpoint it, all of Sunwoos blurred into one, because he thought there was only one, and it’s only with great difficulty that he finally looks at Sunwoo and says, “What?”

It seems Sunwoo wasn’t watching either, turning to Junghwan like his voice brought him back from private musings (does he feel bad about the prank? victorious?). “Yeah, you know how Yeonseok hyung was talking about people who are attracted to men _and_ women? I think that maybe-”

“What?”

Sunwoo’s eyes seem the saddest he’s ever seen them and he appears to have shrunken in his seat. “You weren’t listening? Or were you already sick at that point?”

“No, yes,” Junghwan is trying to process everything that’s happening so very quickly on the go, “I was listening, it’s just… It’s not the same as a homosexual?”

“Oh.” The change is so drastic it’s like Sunwoo died and came back to life. Junghwan feels about the same, if for different reasons, and his brain simply doesn’t have the space to encompass Sunwoo’s reasons on top of his own. “No, it’s… No.”

“Well, is there a word for it?”

Sunwoo steadies Junghwan’s knees that he didn’t realize were trembling. “Junghwan, do you really wanna have a language lesson _now_?”

“No, I’m just…” He can’t put it into words, describe this missing void he didn’t know was there, and how can he begin to understand an empty space that he had no knowledge of, no documented history of what is supposed to be there in its stead?

“It’s okay,” Sunwoo says, his tone warm just like the palms keeping Junghwan down. _You’re_ amazing, Junghwan wants to tell him, but he can’t even do that. “Should we…?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Junghwan says urgently, even though he doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. He searches his memory for the breathing exercises they taught them in vocal class. “Can we continue?” The sentence comes out stronger, surer, and it lifts up his spirits a little and he musters a smile. “Your answers are amazing, you can’t quit now.”

Sunwoo returns it. “I’m not quitting if you’re not quitting.”

“It’s decided, then.” The weight on his knees makes him feel grounded and he doesn’t want to move even a little and risk losing it so it’s convenient that he doesn’t need to check the paper to know what follows. “The next official question is, do you think I’m a homosexual or,” he frowns, “you know, other thing things?”

Sunwoo sits up against the backrest and takes his hands away with him. “I don’t know.”

“I’m asking what you think,” Junghwan insists and hesitates immediately after. “Are you annoyed?”

“No,” Sunwoo says without missing a beat but Junghwan studies his face for any contrasting signs. Sunwoo waves in front of it. “I’m under the oath, all right?”

Junghwan believes him, and isn’t sure if he should push his luck or play it safe. He goes half the way. “You’ve thought about it though.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sunwoo confirms in English with that silly drawly voice he often uses when speaking it. Junghwan takes it as an encouragement rather than a restraint.

“What did you think?”

Sunwoo replies and Junghwan hates English. He’s not sure if he heard a _baby_ or a _maybe_ or if it’s something else entirely, and each option fills him with a unique set of intense feelings, but he doesn’t know which one to adopt because English is evil and hates him back.

“Fine,” is all he says, and Sunwoo knows of his struggle with English, and he must know Junghwan knows he knows so the seemingly innocent smile he’s sporting can’t even be considered a hoax.

He studies the paper after it’s been in his hand without a purpose for a while now. He didn’t count on how the questions he found somewhat reasonable when writing them down might become ridiculous as they progress.

“You want me to read it for you?” Sunwoo brings him back to the present.

“No, I’ll read it. You can’t laugh though.”

Sunwoo groans. “When someone says that you know it’s something you’re gonna want to laugh at.”

“Um, no, when someone says that you know it’s something they’re sensitive about so you absolutely can’t laugh.”

“Stop being a better person than me.”

Junghwan cackles. “You be better. This is your chance to prove how better you are.”

Sunwoo raises his eyebrows as a go-ahead.

It’s easier to voice the arguably stupid questions now that Junghwan thinks of it as another game for Sunwoo. He flicks his eyes between the paper and Sunwoo’s face, even with the question memorized, so he can alternate between subtly avoiding direct eye contact and checking for any signs of laughter. “Can there be two homosexuals and stuff in a group?”

Sunwoo holds up well, instead resuming an expression of a patient teacher Junghwan saw him use with Chanshik before (and on one occasion on Junghwan as well before he put a quick stop to it). “Can there be two blood types B in a group?”

Right, he’s going for an analogy, and the direction where it’s heading doesn’t clear up any of the inner chaos Junghwan is trying to sort out. “No.”

“What the hell?”

“B _1_ A4,” Junghwan says, and one of them must have dropped on their head as a child, he thinks.

The corners of Sunwoo’s mouth twitch. “No, I mean in any group, I’m trying to say there’s, like, over 10% types B in the world-”

Junghwan almost falls over himself when he screams, “You’re laughing at me!”

“I’m not, I’m not, I’m not,” Sunwoo says even as he stops controlling his mouth and lets the laugh spill freely, “you’re just too cute.”

“I’m not trying to be,” Junghwan says defensively through the fluttering in his heart Sunwoo’s words caused. “Is that a yes, then?”

Sunwoo hums. “As for B1A4, unless there’s some new rule Jinyoung hyung implanted that I don’t know of…”

“Stop it.” Junghwan attempts to look threatening but it only seems to amuse Sunwoo more. “Moving on. This next question… Speak of the devil. You know that time we went to see _Friends with Benefits_?”

Sunwoo glances at the paper, suspicious, and it’s Junghwan’s turn to have fun at his expense. “Uh-huh?”

“And Jinyoungie hyung cried throughout the whole movie?”

“Yes?” Sunwoo says slowly.

“And you claimed you didn’t even though I distinctly remember seeing another teary member next to hyung? Would you guess which member that was?””

Sunwoo’s take on threatening might work on anyone else but Junghwan is fully immune, or maybe he just likes the risk. “I di-”

“Tell me the truth, Sunwoo, you have to if you want to continue,” he says, feeling powerful as never before.

It takes Sunwoo a few moments to accept his defeat, and then, “Fine, I did, but-”

“I knew it! I knew it!”

“ _But_!” Sunwoo shouts over him. “I didn’t cry from the movie, I cried because hyung was crying, you know how hard it is to see your friend cry? But yeah, that’s probably even more embarrassing so I lied, fine!”

Junghwan gives him his brightest smile, satisfied at unveiling one of Sunwoo’s strongest denials over the years, and Sunwoo smiles back with that murderous glare of his. “That’s actually really sweet though,” Junghwan adds as he basks in the confession he acquired. “Tell him, you might make him cry again.”

“You’re such a shameless little shit sometimes.”

“That’s what I get from being friends with a shameless big shit.”

“So it’s all my fault, huh?” Sunwoo laughs and looks away. “Also, like, these questions and your supposed order of importance…”

“There is one! This was very important, you might have never told us.”

“You’re awful at building suspense,” Sunwoo keeps talking to the space on Junghwan’s right, “or maybe brilliant ‘cause it’s driving me crazy.”

Junghwan wants to rebuke that but he isn’t sure he should. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sunwoo’s eyes return on him. “ _Nothing, it’s something, stop it._ ”

“I dance to that song perfectly,” Junghwan says, suspecting he wouldn’t get anywhere if he kept asking with how stubborn Sunwoo knows how to be.

Sunwoo nods.. “I know you do. Stop stalling though, what’s next?”

“I wasn’t!” He wasn’t, caught in the memories of a 20-year-old crying Sunwoo and his own reedition of _Something_ , which has earned him much success on variety shows, but now that Sunwoo points it out, he remembers there are reasons why maybe he should have been stalling. “Another non-question. I couldn’t come up with all 20 so for this one I just have a doodle.” He tears off the drawing at the bottom of the paper.

“Unbelievable, the possibilities are endless.” Sunwoo still takes the offered piece of paper and examines it with interest. “ _Frozen_?”

“Yep.”

Sunwoo sticks the paper in his pocket, and catches Junghwan looking on. “I’m gonna frame it and put it on my wall or auction it for millions won, or something.”

“It’s all yours now, do as your please. So what is your artistic opinion?”

Sunwoo rubs his chin. “Artistically speaking, it’s priceless and extremely adorable.”

“True artistic speak,” Junghwan agrees mock seriously, underneath it trying to squash the joy that’s threatening to reach the surface of his face.

“Indeed.”

“I’ll move to the next question.” Junghwan gulps. “You’re getting close.”

“Cool,” Sunwoo says quietly.

“Okay. Remember, you’re under oath. Are you raiding my secret snack stash?”

“As expected of Sandeul,” Sunwoo notes.

Junghwan frowns. “I am Sandeul. Why are you Sandeuling me now, are you implying I’m fake?”

“You couldn’t be fake if you tried,” Sunwoo replies, unfazed, “but you can’t convince me this is the… I don’t know the numbers… that this is one of the most important questions for Lee Junghwan. Why aren’t you telling me the numbers?” Sunwoo pulls a sad face.

It isn’t Junghwan and Sandeul’s fifth most important question, but the theory was that it would help him carry on toward the following ones. “The thing is,” he says with dignity, decided not to let Sunwoo’s judgement about his seeming priorities get to him, “someone’s been stealing from it for ages and I’ve never managed to catch them.”

“My money’s on Jinyoung hyung. You know how sneaky he is.”

“But isn’t the roommate too obvious an answer?” Junghwan ponders, keen on figuring it out now that Sunwoo is done complaining and they’re already on the subject.

“That’s what he’d want you to think.”

“Yah!” Sunwoo almost made Junghwan forget he’s one of the suspects. “Don’t think you can get out of telling me the truth so easily.”

“Calm down, I didn’t even know you had a no-longer-secret food stash.” He throws him a dangerous smile. “Why don’t you try to film the crime scene? You could just ‘forget,’” Sunwoo puts air-quotes around the word, “to turn off your camera that would happen to be lying around.”

Junghwan tries to imagine how the scenario would play out. “Can’t do, with my luck I’d actually forget to turn it off once I’m in the room and the camera would get lost and someone would find the footage and expose me, and I don’t like the idea of capturing what Jinyoung hyung’s doing on his own either.”

Sunwoo licks his lips (they could have been dry for all Junghwan knows, but it just looks unnecessarily obscene). “You two sound like very scandalous young men.”

“Ugh.” Junghwan is suddenly all too aware of the discussion regarding this question reaching its end, and tries to think of purposeful stalling methods to no avail.

“Next, next, next,” Sunwoo urges him like he’s Chanshik’s mind-reading older brother with the same sadistic tendencies.

Junghwan glues his eyes to the paper. “What did you think when you had to kiss me?” His voice comes out surprisingly calm and steady. “Any commentary before you answer?”

“No,” and it’s Sunwoo’s voice that hiccups around it. Junghwan didn’t expect him to know what he meant right away. It was a two-year-old comedy skit for work and not kissing in its true definition.

He picks at the edges of the paper as he waits, being able to see Sunwoo only as a vague presence out of the immediate focus of his eyesight.

“I thought…” Sunwoo pauses again. “Do you remember how I was the one who got to pick my role first?”

“Yep.” He didn’t. “I lost and had to be the last.”

“It was obvious you’d get stuck with the girl. I wanted to be the star ‘cause, yeah, it was so silly but I just wanted to act, like, really give it a go and do the best job I could, and I thought…” Sunwoo gives it another try, sounding determined. “It was ridiculous they wanted us to kiss, but it was you so I thought that would make it less weird and it was almost better than if I had to kiss some random girl, like when we film music videos with a girl we meet five minutes prior and it gets all awkward, and I knew that with us it would be awkward but also hilarious and just, us, and I was planning to imagine you’re a girl so I wouldn’t be kissing a boy in my mind, and that wasn’t hard ‘cause you honestly looked great, but in the end I still wanted to think about how it’s really you underneath, because, like, filming it with a random girl was what I didn’t want in the first place, and then it happened really quickly and there wasn’t any time to think about it ‘cause everyone was there and we were still filming the behind the scenes, and when I did have time to think later, it was almost disappointing how it was this big thing in my head and then it went by like nothing.”

Silence thumps in Junghwan’s ears after the last of Sunwoo’s words.

“Thanks,” he says. He can’t see Sunwoo’s reaction so he finally looks up, his eyes probably very tired in their default, and discovers Sunwoo looking as if he just ran a marathon, flushed and out of breath. He deserves more than a thanks, more than one-sided interrogation, but all Junghwan can do is go through the motions of stating his remaining questions. “What happened to my voice? When I sing… I know you can’t know when I don’t even know, and it might sound fine to everyone else, but it’s killing me, I sing but I feel like I lost my voice, and I can’t... I just need to…” Brainstorm? Have a witness to his breakdown?

Sunwoo looks thoughtful, and not like he’s concluding Junghwan has gone crazy. “Like _The Little Mermaid_?”

All Junghwan can remember from the movie is _Under the Sea_ from when he was searching random Disney songs on YouTube, but if it helps Sunwoo understand his situation. “Sure. I guess?”

Sunwoo sees right through his cluelessness. “Didn’t you grow up on Disney like the rest of us?”

“Yeah, but I mostly watched _Toy Story_ and _The Lion King_ over and over.”

“Basically like,” Sunwoo starts in the teaching tone again, but Junghwan doesn’t mind, “the Little Mermaid can sing really well and everyone is in love with her voice and stuff but she wants to become human and be _Part of Your World_ , so she exchanges her voice for that.”

Junghwan’s throat tightens. “It can’t end like that.”

“Of course it doesn’t, it’s a children’s movie,” Sunwoo explains patiently. “She’s also in love with this prince and he’s in love with her, and if they kiss on time she can get her voice back, but obviously it’s not that simple and they’re both really dumb about it, and if they don’t do it on time the Little Mermaid becomes a little monster fish thing.”

A little monster fish thing under the Busan sea, flashes through Junghwan’s mind, and Sunwoo must notice how sickly he looks because he rushes to say, “But there is a happy ending and there’s a big fight and they defeat the evil witch and the Little Mermaid’s dad is saved.”

Junghwan can’t remember any mentions of the evil witch and the Little Mermaid’s dad in Sunwoo’s recollection of the mission to get her voice back so he dismisses that part. There’s only one thing left to do, and he knows the next question by heart, except the wording is all wrong, he realizes.

 _Do you want to_ “Can I kiss you?” he improvises a better version, and Sunwoo looks stunned. Junghwan _is_ stunned, but with anticipation more than anything else.

“Can you just ignore the territories like that?”

Junghwan rolls his eyes, despite the shivers attacking his entire body. It’s going to be fine. “Stop stalling.”

He slides in his chair closer until his knees bump into Sunwoo’s and he traps Sunwoo’s thighs between his, reminded of being in the same position with Sunwoo before when they played the thigh lock on several shows, but this time Sunwoo makes no attempts to break free and lets himself be pulled along when Junghwan grabs the back of his head to bring him closer.

He’s determined to give Sunwoo plenty to think about this time around.

  
  


  
  


They run into Dongwoo standing around in the hallway in front of the practice room. “I don’t believe you had any shared schedules that would take longer than all of ours?” he says as soon as he spots them, and Sunwoo laughs.

“Stop doing hyung’s dirty work for him.” It’s his first full sentence, their first full sentence, ever since the stalling accusation, and his voice comes out even deeper than usual. This is what Sunwoo sounds like after Junghwan kisses him, he thinks dazedly.

“If I don’t, no one will,” Dongwoo says with weepy aegyo.

“True.”

They walk into the room and, as predicted, Jinyoung only gives them a kind welcome along with Chanshik, and Sunwoo has a little back-and-forth with everyone before seeking out Junghwan’s eyes in the mirror. “Hwannie, your voice?”

“Right,” Junghwan says, much higher than usual.

  
  


  
  


Junghwan is lying in Sunwoo’s bed with Sunwoo seeping body warmth into his side and more warmth with his leg casually thrown over him and more with his palm running over his chest and most of all with his mouth grazing over Junghwan’s. The top of a guitar is digging into his shoulder, and he imagines someone asking him what his day was like and Junghwan going, oh you know, after some recordings I was teaching Sunwoo a song on the guitar and then we made out a lot.

He moans a little when Sunwoo very deliberately teases his tongue with his and he sucks on his bottom lip in return, growing less ashamed of the automatic reactions Sunwoo evokes in him and more ambitious in carrying out a revenge of the same kind. Both the upside and the downside of this plan is that it easily escalates into a match and Junghwan finds himself back to melting under Sunwoo who is biting his jaw and sliding his hand down to his stomach, not lower than they’ve felt comfortable going so far but still making Junghwan flush with the hint of the future possibilities, and he runs his fingers into Sunwoo’s hair so that none of his weapons of Sunwoo-aimed destruction come to waste and, this part is less proactive, he simply feels a pressing need to do so.

A phone buzzes next to his head and he ignores it for the sake of keeping Sunwoo’s lips from drying out and opening them up to deeper, dirtier tactics, before he remembers it might be related to his life of a working man, and the sooner he takes care of work business the more undisturbed time he’ll have to focus on breaking Sunwoo, so he forces his hand between their mouths to keep them apart, fails to think of Sunwoo licking his palm as gross instead of sensual, and looks at the screen.

“Oh, it’s yours.” The KakaoTalk preview shows a sticker of a little Yoo Yeonseok crossing his arms with two tumbleweed-like scribbles around his head and a speech bubble saying ‘ _Hm!_ ’ “What is this?”

Sunwoo observes the offered phone. “I believe that’s Yeonseokkie hyung gloating after I told him about the newest developments.”

“Developments, huh?” Junghwan moves around a bit on the narrow bed so he can hover over Sunwoo for a change (pleased that he manages not to have any part of Sunwoo’s body hit the wall) and kisses him once more, but before he can get much further Sunwoo starts giggling into his mouth. Junghwan pulls away and gives him a quizzical look.

“I’m just…” Sunwoo grins. “I won your 20 questions.”

Junghwan slips his fingers under Sunwoo’s armpit and tickles, planting a kiss on his cheek as he squirms. “You didn’t. Wait.” He fishes in his backpocket where he’s kept the significant paper. “You didn’t get to the last level, look.”

Sunwoo sits up so he can read it better and Junghwan follows, maintaining contact with Sunwoo through hands on his thighs he unwittingly puts there, and Sunwoo reads, “‘ _Can the ground swallow me up?_ ’ Oh my god, you are so dramatic.”

“Me?” Junghwan squeezes Sunwoo’s thighs with disbelief. “You’re the dramatic one.”

“You’re joking, right?” Sunwoo puts his hands over Junghwan’s. “We’ll ask someone.”

“We’ll ask _everyone_.”

“Absolutely, we’ll put it to a vote, just don’t be too disappointed when-”

“The fans know!” someone screams from the living room and Junghwan and Sunwoo bump heads in shock, not minding that as they exchange terrified looks.

“It can’t be…” Junghwan whispers, urging Sunwoo to assure him.

“Yeah, I mean, no one knows.” Sunwoo sounds as uncertain as him. “Well, except for Yeonseok hyung and Hojun hyung, and Jinyoung hyung.”

Junghwan doesn’t have time to process the list of people and if he knew they knew. “And I bet Chan knows and Dongwoo hyung must know too.”

“But…” Sunwoo hesitates and they both get up.

“That would be ridiculous, right?”

“Right.”

They find everyone on the floor forming a quiet circle around the laptop like it’s a sacred object. Sunwoo glances at Junghwan one more time and takes it upon himself to read what’s on the screen. Junghwan sits on the sofa, biting his lip, which is already rather sore from spending time with Sunwoo in their new exciting ways.

“‘ _Nice try, badeul hate L-O-L, I cry, they love it so much. Baro looks so in love it O-M-G_ ,’” Sunwoo pauses with a half embarrassed, half smirky smile, and everyone else in the room bursts out laughing. Junghwan doesn’t know why the others but as for him, he thinks it’s possible he’s kind of really happy. “‘ _Badeul is real bye. Also, fuck I did not know I could get more emotional Sandeul about singing, but he proved me wrong. Crying emoticon._ ’” This time Sunwoo aims a private smile at Junghwan (Junghwan wants to kiss at it), and when he looks back at the screen he cackles about something and everyone subconsciously leans closer. “‘ _CNU also does not look in love with Gongchan lately? Really though. Open bracket, Jinyoung bad, close bracket._ ’”

For the first time in what feels like forever everyone’s attention is not on Junghwan and Sunwoo but jumps between the remaining members, no one saying anything until Junghwan repeats, howling with laughter, “ _Jinyoung bad_.”

That opens up a lively chatter and much hilarity, and Sunwoo plops on the long sofa, pressed uncomfortably and yet so amazingly close to Junghwan, and yeah, happy would be the word.


End file.
